The Surfing Angel
by DiamondDweller
Summary: AU - Determined to end her life after a terrible accident claims her lover, Mitchie is rescued by a total stranger. Is this the man that will help her get her life back? - Smitchie -


Summary: Determined to end her life after a terrible accident claims her lover, Mitchie is rescued by a total stranger. Is this the man that will help her get her life back?

Disclaimer: I do not own Mitchie or Shane. But I do own Andrew! *smug smile*

Authors Note: My first FF ever, I haven't read anything similar to this.. Hope ya'll like it.

**- - - The Surfing Angel - - - **

As the sea crashed on the rocks below her, Mitchie was mesmerized by the sound, thunderous in its might and power. The spray of snow-white water thrust skywards, almost ominous, yet beautiful, shattering with a shower back to the black rocks. With a sound similar, she thought, to an exploding bomb. If ever the use of an abusing word could be used to describe it, awesome indeed it was.

She teetered a bit closer to the edge, her thoughts shifting more dramatically.

Andrew!

"Are you alright?" Sounded an unexpected voice from directly behind her, as she simultaneously felt a hand grasping her shoulder. A slight shudder coursed through her body.

Turning her head, trying to see who had approached her with such stealth, Mitchie replied, "Yes, I am. Thank you."

She could see a strong sun browned hand resting on her shoulder, and as her gaze wandered up, it was to meet with the brownest, most concerned eyes she could ever have imagined. Giving a deep sigh, she began to turn, propelled by the hand resting so firmly, yet gently on her shoulder.

Shane had stopped the car overlooking Malibu beach, wanting to assess the surf before making his way down to the shore. Surfing was his joy, his life. Getting out of the car he had noticed the woman on the ledge some way to his right, off the beaten track. Though not normally too concerned with what people did along the tourist route, he had been drawn inexplicably to her.

He had watched the wind whip her shoulder length hair, almost a very light shade of brown as the sun glinted on it, around her head – she seemingly unaware of anything other than the huge waves crashing the rocks immediately below her. As she teetered closer to the edge, he had without realization been driven onto the path towards her.

He exhaled the deepest breath of relief as he propelled the girl to face him, moving slightly backwards, bringing her to somewhat safer ground. He would feel like a real idiot if his assumption had been wrong.

He wondered what to say next. "I'm sorry if I startled you," he began, "I was just worried you were too close to the edge and might fall."

He maintained his grasp on her shoulder without really knowing why. The girl before him had to tilt her head slightly to be able to meet his gaze. She smiled timorously, although he could see it didn't reach her large, mahogany brown eyes.

"Thank you," she murmured softly. He let his arm drop reluctantly. He could think of no logical reason to continue grasping her shoulder as he had.

"Hmm," he began, feeling ever more ridiculous as he did, "I would love to invite you to tea, but seeing that we don't know each other, perhaps I should introduce myself first. I'm Shane Gray, musician by profession and surfer by choice," He continued, giving an elegantly theatrical bow. She gave another woeful smile.

"I'm Mitchie Torres," was all she said.

"So Mitchie Torres would you like a cup of tea, down there?" he asked, waving one of his arms in the direction of Malibu Village.

Mitchie nodded her head.

"OK," he said, taking one of her hands in his as he began to make his way to where his car was parked above them, noticing for the first time what must surely be her vehicle parked not far from it.

"Is that your car?" he asked pointing to the white Polo.

Again, all Mitchie did was nod her head in assent.

"I'll tell you what," continued her knight in surfer's gear of baggy shorts and floppy T-shirt, "let's go in my jalopy, and I'll bring you back here to your car when we're done OK?"

Although she nodded again, Mitchie felt the vague awareness that although she should be reluctant to go with a stranger anywhere, she felt safe with this man.

Shane unlocked his well-cared for Jaguar, installed his passenger, and drove with care towards Malibu Village.

Mitchie never spoke, simply resting her head on the headrest, keeping her eyes closed. A sense of peace slowly enveloped her, bringing to her troubled soul a calm she for days, weeks, had not imagined possible.

"Would you like something other than tea?" asked Shane once they were seated on the verandah of the little family coffee shop.

"I fancy a little bit more substantial, how about you?" he continued, fixing his bright eyed gaze on his still troubled face.

Mitchie had not eaten for days. She glanced at the menu and thought she might actually enjoy one of the open, delicious looking and smelling sandwiches made from home-made bread.

Watching he gaze settle on the open sandwiches Shane prompted, "Good choice. Their sandwiches are more than good. What do you fancy? Chicken, egg, tuna?"

"I think egg sounds fine," she replied, a slight smile playing on her face.

"And to drink?" quipped Shane, delighted she had finally spoken, and overjoyed there was just a glimmer of smile.

"Could I have a cappuccino?" she asked.

"Absolutely!"

Shane placed the order and then leaned forward. Resting his elbows on the table, fingers intertwined beneath his chin, he was able to look into Mitchie's face.

"Feeling alright?" he asked.

Mitchie returned his gaze, focusing properly on the man across from her. She wasn't entirely sure where to start. The first sense of life she had experienced since the night Andrew was hijacked and so brutally murdered was breaking through the barrier of ice that had surrounded her these past months.

"Yes," she said after some moments, "I think I am."

Shane felt immense relief.

"Would you like to join me down on the beach?" he asked as the waitress cleared their table after the quiet meal they had enjoyed together.

Neither had spoken much, content to be in each other's company. Mitchie felt as though the smothering fog was beginning to clear. For the first time in months there was actually something to see other than the heavy gloom that had so completely enveloped her.

"Right," grinned Shane, "I'll pick you up at seven," as he closed the Polo door, and Mitchie let the window open.

"Thank you," was all she said quietly, with a gentle smile that told Shane, beyond doubt, that she was going to be just fine. He watched her back her car up, saw her wave briefly, and then drive back down the road they had taken for her to collect it. As they sat contently on the beach, side by side, gazing across the waves as they rolled relentlessly to the shore, she had finally told him about Andrew.

Mitchie drove in deep thought, heading for the church on the corner. Andrew's ashes had been placed in the garden of remembrance there. She sat down on the wooden bench, under the tree, where she could see Andrew's plaque.

She wondered if Andrew, on the other side, would be able to hear what she was going to say to him. Her eyes closed, she listened for a few moments the cooing of the doves in the branches above her. Everything was so peaceful. She wondered too what, or perhaps who, had prompted Shane to come to her rescue that morning? Was Shane real or an angel manifested in human form?

She shook her head to bring her thoughts back into focus, remembering why she had come.

"Andrew," she whispered, "I hope that you can hear me. Losing you was one of the hardest things I've had to endure. You were the love of my life and I believed we would grow old together, yet somehow…"

Her words faltered. Taking a deep breath she continued, "I just couldn't see how I could carry on without you, yet, as I watched those waves breaking on to the shore this afternoon before going back out into the ocean again, I realized my life must go on. I never imagined it would be possible, but I feel the time has finally come for me to say good-bye to you. Thank you for having been such a special part of my life, and although I'm saying goodbye, I'll never forget you, no matter where I go or what I do from now on."

Mitchie gazed at the plaque and smiled. As she stood up she waved her hand gently and turned away. She walked slowly to the gate, opened it, went through and continued down the path without glancing back.

**- TSA -**

"Come on," he called with a glee. "Run like the wind! Let's see who can get to the wreck first!"

Her hair streaming in the wind, Mitchie charged after the incredible being who'd so miraculously come into her life, her laughter carrying in the air across the beach as they sprinted towards the wreck so imbedded in the sand. Reaching it, they collapsed, their bodies heaving from the expended energy, their laughter joyous and happy.

**- TSA -**

Mitchie woke up from her peaceful sleep, twisting the ring on her finger that signified so much. She lay awake remembering. He had not rushed her, not into anything. He'd simply been there for her – encouraging her every step of the way on her road to recovering from her deep, dark days of grieving and ager. Laughter had returned to fade away the anger, still the tears.

Hand in hand the walked the dunes. Together they searched for shells, ate crayfish fresh from the sea, or simply sat in tranquil quiet and gazed across the ocean which in itself held so many dark, secrets.

Where hope had died, he had brought the sure knowledge her life was not yet done. Together they could accomplish most if not all their shared dreams.

She turned gently not wanting to disturb him from his tranquil sleep. As she gazed at his face, so peaceful and strong, she wondered if an angel sent from heaven could possibly have been stronger, more encouraging than this man?

Without realizing it, Mitchie reached out and gently stroked the face of her surfing angel. He murmured softly, reached out and drew her gently closer to himself, his breathing increasing even as she could begin to feel that throb of excitement that could only be aroused from deep desire, assured it would be satisfied by this man, her love, her life.

**THE END**

**So? What did you think? Hit that purple button and leave your thoughts.**

**Merry Christmas!**

**Love, Bella**


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